Surrender (Careless Whispers #3)

“I know,” I say. “But promise me that you won’t say you’re selfish, or even think it.”

He doesn’t promise. He holds me there for several beats and then releases me and stands, leaning toward me and pressing his fists into the mattress and meeting my stare. “I’m going to be protective.”

“That’s understandable, since one mob boss killed your family and another one is after me. But eventually promise me that we can work together and get there.”

“We’re going to fight,” he warns.

“That’s okay, because I’ll win.”

His sexy, oh so talented lips curve. “You have a lot to learn,” he teases, “but I’ll teach you.” I laugh and shake my head while he straightens and offers me his hand. “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’m starving, and we have a lot to talk about.” I give him a tentative look and slide my hand into his, and he notices. “We’re just catching up on everything for the day. That’s what husbands and wives do.”

“Husband,” I say softly.

“Wife,” he says softly.

I haven’t missed the fact that he hasn’t let go of his self-proclaimed title of “selfish,”and I fear for how he’d deal with my death. But we have plenty of time to work on a remedy for that, since I don’t plan on dying.

“Come on,” he says, helping me off the bed.

My gaze catches on his new Rolex, and I hate that it’s pulled me from our sexy, romantic mood.

My hand comes down on it and he turns to face me. “You want to know about the watch given to Carlo.”

“Yes. Was it Niccolo?”

“I didn’t ask him.”

“What? Why?”

“Because as I was standing in front of him, he made a comment that reminded me that he is a desperate, dying man. If he didn’t send it, it will make him feel his brother is moving faster than he is. He’ll push you for the necklace, and who knows what that will mean.”

I give a slow nod. “Yes. I believe he would. Thank God you thought of that.”

“But on that same note,” Kayden says, “I think that is exactly why it could be he who did this. He needs you to feel the urgency that he does to find the necklace. Scaring you and worrying me could be a strategy.”

“That works for Neuville as well,” I point out. “Would Niccolo really think of the watch being a trigger for me?”

“Would Neuville?”

My mind goes to a memory of me tied up, of him looking at that watch and setting a deadline. “One hour. Then I’ll come for you.” “Yes. He would. I want to believe it’s not him, but he’s the one who would know what my reaction would be to Carlo’s watch.”

“They both have spies inside each other’s operations. They know each other well. If Neuville favors that watch—”

“He does. He makes notice of it often.”

“Then remember that Niccolo is highly intelligent and manipulative. And Matteo found a link between the customer who gave Carlo the watch and Alessandro.”

“Who could be working for both brothers.”

“Yes,” he confirms, “and even as we speak, Matteo is trying to find a path that connects Alessandro, the watch, and one of the two brothers. In the meantime, we assume it’s the more dangerous of the two.”

“Which means we assume I was right: Garner Neuville is coming for me.”

“No,” Kayden says, his hands settling at my waist. “That would make us victims, sweetheart, and we are not victims. This is war, and we will win. He’s not coming for us. We’re going for him.” He brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. “Let’s go eat and plan our enemies’ demise. Or our wedding. Whatever you want.”

What I want is to turn back time, hold that gun to Neuville’s head again, and shoot him. Because I fear that lost moment will be my greatest regret and loss.



Ten minutes after Kayden and I use the words wife and husband for the first time, I’ve pulled on black leggings under his shirt. He’s now wearing a plain white shirt that hugs his muscles to perfection, the way I plan to again before we sleep. Both of us wear warm UGG slippers and we’ve made our way to the kitchen, where he’s doing a scavenger hunt in the fridge and I’m making coffee. For reasons I don’t analyze, despite my earlier urgency I’m not eager to dive into the topic of Trigger and the CIA, but there’s plenty else to talk about anyway.

“Any word on Gallo?” I ask, flipping on the pot and getting the brew started so it will be ready when we’ve finished eating.

“He boarded that plane to Milan,” Kayden says. “He also booked a flight back here in two days, so this plan to get him out of town for a while didn’t work.”

“What did Niccolo say about the threat to Gallo’s sister?”

“I changed my mind about discussing that particular topic,” he says, removing a plate of sandwiches from the fridge, shutting the door, and motioning to the table where we’ve already set up plates, bottled water, and a fruit salad.

“I don’t understand,” I say, claiming a seat. “Why?”